I have a bikey now! I sort of want to call it Bikey, but I’m not allowed to!
My last bikey was called Bikey, and it got almost no use before being passed over to a charity when we left India. My new bikey, which is temporarily called Not Bikey, is far too expensive not to use, and so cannot be given the same name in case devils happen in my ear and make the same thing occur. That’s what happened last time, probably. Devils happening in my ear. The resultant rule is that this bike cannot also be Bikey.
Rules are strange and baffling in my house.
At the same time as I bought Not Bikey I also got my daughter a new steed of her own. It is a BMX bikey, and because it is officially called a Voodoo Horde she has named it The Baron, after Baron Samedi.
The Baron is the most awesome name for a bikey in the entire world, and I am pitifully jealous. Not of the bike. The bike is a tiny and confusing thing with stuff sticking out and handlebars that do odd and unexpected things*. But the name is awesome. Not Bikey needs a name as cool as The Baron. You should totally help, using the comments thing below to leave comments which have names for Not Bikey that are as cool as or cooler than The Baron.
Not Bikey is a Boardman hybrid thing, meaning it can handle roads and also slightly uneven tracks. I loves it. It is my best thing.
No, wait. Sadie the puppy is my best thing. Because this.
Um. Also my human family. They’re quite good too, even though I can’t ride them over mixed terrain to get to my dayjob. Or maybe I could. I haven’t tried, obviously. My evidential base is weak. Perhaps I should have ridden them through heavy traffic and over mixed terrain before spending all that money on Not Bikey. I could have worn one of them on my head, to protect my skull in case of a crash, and painted a fetching logo and some go faster stripes on the other one.
No. Now is not the time for regrets. That moment has passed. Not Bikey is with me now, and so riding around on my human family would just be weird.
Not Bikey serves a dual purpose, not only eliminating public transport from my commute, but also making me train even when I’m not training. Training when not training is, I am reliably informed, called cross training. It’s a thing that athletes do to improve their fitness while taking a break from the main thing they do. I am an athlete now, because cross training.
At least, I think I’m an athlete. I’m quite short and losing my hair, but I do run around a bit and cross train. Do they let you athlete if you’re quite short and losing your hair? I mean it’s equally possible that I’m not an athlete at all, but a short, balding, middle aged man in the middle of some sort of weird mid-life crisis that I think will be demolished by all the running, as though I can escape death and decrepitude with a turn of speed. That would also explain how the coming year has happened, I suppose. Here’s what I’ve accidentally signed up to do while under the influence of stupid enthusiasm.
The Edinburgh Marathon, on May 31st. It looks pleasingly downhill, which given that it’s at the end of this actual month that is happening now is a nice thing.
The Fort William Marathon, on July 26th. This is a new marathon, never before staged, and the route is in the shadow of the UK’s tallest mountain. It does not appear to be pleasingly downhill. Not at all.
The Loch Ness Marathon, on September 27th. There will be monsters, probably, but they won’t get me because of the running.
That’s it for 2015, and I probably should have stopped there, except I CAN’T STOP SIGNING UP FOR RUNNING THINGS!
The Mighty Deerstalker, March 12th 2016, exact distance unknown. The Beard will be joining me for this event, which appears to consist of staggering up hills and through rivers in complete darkness.
The London Marathon, maybe, 24th April 2016. You have to throw your name in a hat for the London marathon, because more people want to do it every year than can actually fit on human roads. My name is in that hat, and I’ll hear back sometime around October. If I don’t get in then I’ll need to put something else in this slot, because it’s all building up to…
The Wall, maybe, June 2016. An ultramarathon, following the path of Hadrian’s Wall from Carlisle on the west coast to Newcastle on the east. I haven’t signed up yet, as this year’s event has to run before next year’s opens, but that’s the plan. 69 miles in twenty-four hours or less, coast to coast.
It’s a good plan. It might even be achievable if I can do sensible things to stop myself getting injured along the way**. If you want to join me for any of the above things then do get in touch. If you just want to point and laugh from your comfortable office chairs, that’s okay too.
In the meantime, name my bikey! Something appropriate, and definitely cooler than The Baron, even if that is the coolest possible name for a bikey.
*Much of which appears to be because staff at Halfords are an incompetent shower of clowns. Maybe not all staff at all Halfords, but definitely the ones I’ve met so far
**I can’t. I am utterly incapable of doing sensible things to stop myself getting injured. I am much more likely to do the opposite of that.